


Art Therapy

by MsMarvelous



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Art, Bathing/Washing, Brotherly Love, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Caretaking, Confusion, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve, Recovery, Remorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMarvelous/pseuds/MsMarvelous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier was trained to be a master at the art of combat and war. He has painted many landscapes with death and pain and blood. So much blood. How can he ever be cleansed when he still feels the blood on his hands, covering his body and tormenting his soul?... Steve will help him. Steve will make him clean again and worthy of his name, James Buchannan Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own these characters, But I enjoy setting them free none the less.
> 
> Authors Note: Just something that popped into my head. I really like the simple, scared child like WS and Steve being protective and comforting.

It had been almost six months since Steve had finally found his brother in arms. Sam had been at his side as had Natasha the day he finally tracked down the infamous Winter Soldier, or what was left of him. Stark had given them a lead when Jarvis had made a match of his image caught on camera at the Smithsonian. Steve took the sighting as a sign of hope that his best friend was beginning to remember, or at least was trying to. Sam had been supportive as had Natasha in her own quiet way, but both had made it a point to remind Steve to be cautious about assuming too much and believing that the man who had nearly killed him during project insight could still reclaim his former self. Steve listened to their advice and nodded that he understood, that he was aware of the distinct possibility that his best friend, Sargent James Buchannan Barnes was gone forever, leaving in his place the husk of humanity that Hydra created. But Steve knew deep down, he knew that Bucky was sill in there, lost but not gone. Steve was determined to find his friend, bring him home and keep him safe. 

It didn’t take long after his not so covert trip to the museum, before the immensely confused and volatile Asset finally began to fall apart. The longer he was away from Hydra and the maintenance chair, the longer his damaged memory had begun to heal and with it a flood of images, distorted and fragmented that poured through his shattered programming. It was happening too fast and compounded by his fatigue, lack of nutritional intake and withdrawal from mood stabilizers. Within only a few weeks, the once lethal and deadly Assassin had been reduced to a huddled mess of sweat and tears and vomit, writhing in pain as he whimpered guttural cries through clenched teeth, clawing at the frozen earth.

That was how they found him, curled up on the ground covered in filth and trembling as the first flakes of snow fell around him. Steve had been approaching slowly, shield out in front of him as he lead his teammates through the Maryland woods at the break of dawn. The Captain was prepared for a fight and Natasha and Sam both had their tranquilizer guns locked and loaded. The moment they saw him Steve instantly let out a chocked gasp, dropping his shield as he rushed forward against the warning calls from the Widow and Falcon. Steve fell to his knees in panic as he pulled his distressed friend toward him. The Soldier barley resisted, eyes squeezed tight as he violently convulsed and cried out in agony, metal hand clenched in his hair and flesh arm wrapped around his stomach. Steve cradled him in his arms as he shouted at Natasha to call Stark for an evac and tell Bruce to prep the infirmary. 

 

Sam had approached the two super soldiers, watching from a safe distance but could not escape the stab of empathy as he studied Cap’s face. Steve looked devastated and completely helpless. His voice cracked as he called his friend’s name over and over, struggling to hold onto Bucky who was making chocked gasping sounds mixed with cries of utter agony, eyes rolling in his head as his body jerked in spasms. Sam stood by with Natasha as they waited for Clint to radio back with coordinates for the nearest viable evack. They had watched together in respectful silence as Steve broke down for the first time since before waking from the ice. Captain America shook as he sobbed quietly clinging to his friend. He mumbled repeatedly that he was sorry as he kissed the dirt smeared forehead and hair line of the barley conscious man, holding him close and rocking back and forth. Steve chocked on his tears as he whispered promises of safety and help, attempting to reassure his friend who was unable to even acknowledge his presence, so lost in the excruciating pain. It was a temporary out pour of grief and sorrow that Steve wiped away from his reddened eyes, clenching his jaw with determination as he carried his friend on to the plane after hesitantly letting Natasha inject the ill man with a sedative. 

Recovery was slow, almost unbearably so and Steve vented most of his frustration on a 700Ib bag Tony had installed in the gym for his express purpose. There were good days and bad days, but nights were always the worst, usually ending with Steve holding onto his friend who was curled in a fetal position in his lap. Steve would stroke Bucky’s hair and rub his back as he rest against the padded wall of Bucky’s room in his sweet at Avenger tower. More often then not Steve would be holding his shirt crumpled up to a broken noise or gash in his forehead as he attempted to stem the bleeding with one hand, the other gently soothing his friend who was glassy eyed and whimpering, gaze lost as his mind looped memories that tormented his fragile soul.

Once Bruce had managed to ease Bucky back to health with diet and a detox to help with his with drawl, the subject was then brought up concerning his patient’s mental health. It was painfully obvious that while the Soldier was slowly regaining memory, he was not yet Bucky Barnes, just a lost and confused man broken to the point of complete submission. That fact killed Steve who felt sick inside every time he asked Bucky to make a choice, even a simple one like cloths to ware or what kind of food he would like to eat and each time his friend responded in the same way, brow crumpled and a fretful glance as he nervously attempted to read Steve’s face to determine the best answer. With Sam’s help he managed to recognize that in order to help Bucky return, he first had to help fix the broken Soldier, a task easier said then done.

Each Avenger had lent a hand, taking time to interact with Bucky in ways that demonstrated love, compassion and friendship. It took almost six weeks before he finally began to ask questions, even small little ones. Another four before he would actually state a preference and even then it was said with a low, soft voice as he watched their faces to determine their reaction. The Asset was a quick learner, but it was hard for him to go against such ingrained programming and conditioning. For every step forward there would come a vicious flash back that left him in a psychotic rage or worse, trembling and whimpering on the ground, cowering like a beaten dog. The rage was easier for Steve to deal with emotionally although physically it was taking it’s tole and Sam was constantly reminding him that even a Super Soldier had to heal from broken bones. The fear was what ripped the Captain apart, witnessing his best friend, a man who had always stood tall and proud, defending him from the world, now completely shattered and whimpering, eyes wide in fear as he begged and sobbed in Russian and English.

As the days had worn on, the Avengers helped The Winter Soldier find ways to deal and cope with the onslaught of foreign feelings and memories from a life he didn’t understand as well as the ones he was terrified of remembering from his life of slavery under Hydra. Although The Soldier was becoming more at ease with his day to day existence amongst his new handlers that insisted on being referred to as friends, he still preferred to spend the majority of his time with Steve, often calm and complacent as he sat quietly near by and watched Steve drawl.

It was on one such day that the Soldier silently arose from his seated position on the floor across from Steve and walked cautiously toward him, head tilted to the side. Steve looked up from his sketch book with an easy smile even though it never met his eyes.

“Hey Buck,….. wanna sit next to me?” Steve asked as he scooted over on the couch. He received a single nod before The Soldier slowly lowered himself onto the couch cushion, sitting rigid and stiff as he intently watched Steve. Steve offered another smile swallowing as he tried to mask how unnerved it felt to have such an intense gaze on him at all times. He looked back down and continued drawling. As the minutes wore on Steve said nothing as he watched from the corner of his eyes as his friend leaned closer, shifting his weight ever so carefully until he was right next to Steve, eyes glancing from Steve to the sketch book then back over and over. After another few moments, Steve let out a small hum as he slowly lowered the book and held it open for them both to see. The Soldier leaned in close to examine the drawling as he had begun to do more and more often, finally showing active interest in what the others did, as if trying to learn how to act like a human.

Steve swallowed as he looked at his friend’s pensive face that was fixed on the drawling.

“Do you know what this is Bucky?” Steve asked softly, making sure that his voice held no threat of disappointment. It had been difficult at first for the always too honest Captain America to school his expressions and tone of voice. However once he realized that Bucky had begun punishing himself with icy cold showers every time he failed to remember, a fact that was reviled by Jarvis who had actually apologized for not deciphering the pattern of behavior earlier, Steve understood the need to keep his reactions calm and relaxed.

The Captain watched his friend with the smallest glimmer of hope and twist of a smile as he saw the look of recognition flash in Bucky’s pale blue eyes. The Soldier blinked a few times then looked up at Steve with uncertainty before he licked his lips and looked back down tracing the drawling with his metal hand.

“A,……Movie theater,……..Location,….. Brooklyn NY,…….Significant…..” The Soldier spoke with tense pauses, still working on his vocabulary and how to mimic normal communication.

“That’s right!” Steve smiled as he ignored the sour taste he got whenever Bucky answered his questions like a mission debriefing. “This theater was very significant to both of us.” Steve nodded as he slowly brought a hand up to stroke Bucky’s wild locks away from his face. Another realization explained early on by Natasha was that The Soldier craved positive recognition and was starved for touch despite being instinctually afraid of it. Sam had suggested that all of them offer the Soldier friendly physical attention but especially Steve every time Bucky remembered or didn’t remember, to demonstrate that it wasn’t a reward, but something he deserved unconditionally.

“You were smaller,…… in Brooklyn.” The Soldier stated with a nod before glancing to Steve for reassurance. The Captain grinned and nodded, gently kneading Bucky’s tense shoulder were the flesh met with metal. Steve was always conscious of ways to help Bucky break though his conditioning and programming, aware that he was battling a deep seeded dread every time Banner or Stark asked to look at his arm for tune ups or medical evaluations. Steve knew that the more comfortable Bucky got with people touching his arm and shoulder the less of a risk for flash backs that could result it violence and terror. 

“We went to the theater almost every weekend,…… except for when I was sick,… which was pretty often.” Steve mused as he looked back at his drawling. Bucky looked at the drawling then up at Steve with his same intense gaze before placing his flesh palm against Steve’s heart. Steve looked down at his hand then up to his friends eyes that communicated more then his limited words ever could.

“Your lungs,….. are strong now,……. So is your heart…….Good.” Bucky nodded once then removed his hand and pointed at the drawling. “More?” He pointed at the book again and Steve nodded, understanding he wanted to look through it. Together they sat pressed shoulder to shoulder looking over the multiple pages of images from their shred past. Steve would laugh or grin as he remembered stories with Bucky who occasionally was able to chime in and add a detail or two. When they finally got back to the last page with the theater Bucky tilted his head again and bit his lip, a tell that he had a question.

“What is it Buck?” Steve asked gently, giving his friend time to formulate his thoughts. The Soldier’s gaze drifted up to Steve’s as he spoke with uncertainty.

“You see this,…….. all of this,…… In your head?” He asked pointing at the sketch book. Steve smiled and nodded with a sad little sigh as he ran his hand through Bucky’s hair.

“You will again too Bucky,…… The more you remember, the more you will see your life before. The more you will remember what it feels like to be you.” Steve tried to keep his tone light and upbeat but he swallowed down a pang of sadness as he saw his friend’s doubtful glance that dropped away toward his metal hand. There was a long moment of silence before Steve thought of something he wanted to ask Bucky but had been waiting. “Hey Bucky,…… There are lots of ways to make art, not just drawling…… Art can help you show your thoughts and feelings, help you understand the confusion and deal with pain…… would you like to try making some art?” Steve could not hide the hope from his voice and Bucky responded immediately with a nod of certainty. Steve smiled back but wished he knew if Bucky really did want to express himself creatively or if he just wanted to make Steve happy. 

“Okay then,….. come with me to my work area.” Steve grinned as he stood up and Bucky followed on his heels. The two men entered the slightly cramped room that was filled with blank canvases, paint, easels and even a potter wheel and kilmb. Steve had actually been speechless when Pepper and Tony showed him this room of his sweet complete with an array of art materials. Pepper had explained that in many of the history books and documentaries it mentioned that Steve was an artist but that he only ever sketched because growing up he couldn’t afford anything else. Steve walked around explaining what every thing was to his friend even though he had quietly kept Steve company in this room on many sleepless nights. Steve internally scolded himself for not offering Bucky a chance to use art earlier, especially since he had such difficulty verbalizing his emotions. After the full tour, Bucky remained standing at attention in the middle of the room as if waiting to be given orders. Steve sighed slightly then wrapped an arm around him.

“I think maybe you should explore this on your own Buck,….. Art isn’t something that requires orders or instruction,…… nothing you do can be wrong.” Steve offered candidly as he patted him on the back. It was difficult to step away, especially when Bucky looked at him with pleading eyes that spoke of his trepidation. But Sam and Bucky’s Psychiatrist had insisted that Bucky was too codependent on Steve and that he needed time alone to make decisions and remember what it was like to do things with out explicit commands.

“You’ll be okay Buck,….. If you need anything just ask Jarvis and I will come back…… You can start or stop anytime and don’t forget to drink or eat if you need to…… And use the bathroom too.” Steve hated to add that but was horrified the first time he realized Bucky was kneeling in front of him, head lowered in shame for urinating on himself. The Soldier had explained that he could not hold it any longer and he was prepared to accept punishment. From that day forth Steve had been very deliberate in reminding Bucky to use the toilet anytime he needed to and not to wait for permission or orders.

As Steve headed out he heard the soft, plaintive voice follow him.

“Steve,….” He turned around and looked back into the room.  
“Yea Buck?” He asked with a soft, compassionate smile. The Soldier swallowed and looked around the room and then back toward his Handler.

“What do I……..what should………” He stumbled over his words as another look of apprehension crossed his features. Steve sighed and came back into the room, resting a hand on each shoulder.

“Just try to express what ever is going on inside of you Bucky…… I don’t always know what your thinking or feeling,…. What you see,……. And I know it can be really difficult for you to explain using words so…… Maybe this can just be what ever you feel inside,….. whatever you have trouble saying out loud.” Steve smiled at Bucky’s pensive pout before ruffling his hair. “I will be in the common area with the others,….. come up when ever you are done okay?” Steve asked and Bucky nodded once in compliance.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… 

It had been over two hours as Steve stood shifting his weight from one foot to another, eyes on the clock. Natasha stood near by rolling her eyes as Clint chuckled with a snort.

“Steve will you just relax already!..... You left him in there with paint brushes not knifes!!!..... Just give him some space Man!... He needs it even if he doesn’t understand that… Or you for that matter!” Sam pointed at Steve from across the common area as he typed away on his lab top. Stark barked a laugh as he nodded.

“You can say that again,…..Was thinking about buying you two matching onesies next year for Christmas,…… You know, something tasteful,….. Red, White and blue with stars on the butt flaps!” Tony chimed in and received a whack on his arm from Pepper and an annoyed glare from Steve.

“Honestly Steve, Sam is right…. Bucky needs to explore things on his own and feel comfortable doing that.” Bruce spoke up from his spot in an easy chair as he read over a medical periodical. Steve sighed and rubbed his face.

“Jarvis,….. Is Bucky still just standing in the middle of the room?...... If he is I am going back down there!” He grumbled as he exchanged a deliberate look with Sam.

No Sir,….. Sargent Barnes has begun utilizing the paints,….. however it is unclear what his intentions are at the moment….

“What?...... Jarvis what does…” Steve began with apprehension.

“Enough Already!...... Jarvis no more updates unless Sargent Barnes is at risk for self injury!...... Steve I swear to God man if you don’t come over here and sit down to watch this incredibly boring baseball game you specifically requested I put on I am going to change the channel to something way less all American!” Stark huffed and received a raised eyebrow from Steve who sighed and shook his head as he walked over and flopped down on the couch.

“Kind of a lame threat!” He muttered as he grabbed a pillow to hold onto, kneading it as he avoided glancing at the clock. Almost another hour past when the room was interrupted by Jarvis sounding somewhat perplexed.

Excuse me Sir,…. I know I was not to inform you of anything other then risk of self harm,….. but I felt it might be of interest to know that Sargent Barnes has completed his,…..Artistic Expression……. And is heading toward the common area now.

“See Steve,……He is capable of doing things on his own.” Pepper smiled reassuringly. They all turned toward the door way as they heard the elevator chime. Steve stood up with a twist of a smile, interested to see what his friend came up with. His expression changed suddenly, his mouth droping open in disbelief as every one froze in surprise.

“Oh my God!” Pepper covered her mouth and then adverted her eyes as Tony let out a low whistled shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Bucky stood completely naked a few feet into the common room, every inch of him covered in Red paint from his head down to his feet and in his hair. He had also taken brown and black paint and rubbed it in large smears over his Red painted flesh. The only area left unpainted were the soles of his feet and a solid inch above them, a deliberate attempt to avoid leaving paint on the carpets. The former Hydra Assassin stood absolutely still with his arms at his sides, blinking as he stared at the surrounding faces, uncertain how to read their expressions. As the shock settled and Pepper averted her gaze Bucky shifted slightly, taking a step back as he grew self conscious, his lips forming an anxious frown.

“Bucky,…..What?” Steve took a few steps forward with a distressed and confused expression, unable to hid his alarm.

“Art Steve,……. You said I couldn’t do it wrong,….. You said…” Bucky’s voice was a low shudder as he backed up into the door way, face down cast and fists clenched.

“Yea but,….I didn’t think…..” Steve was cut off as Sam quickly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve,….. tell him it’s okay!........Lets find out why before he shuts down!” Sam spoke with a slow steady voice. Steve let out a deep breath and nodded taking a step forward.

“It’s not wrong Bucky,….. or bad,…… I just…… I….” Steve again was at a loss for words and the Soldier looked up with earnest desperation.

“I did not make a mess,…… No prints!” He picked up a foot to show that the bottom wasn’t painted.

“Well thank goodness for that!” Pepper breathed as she continued to look away with a blush crawling up her neck.

“Tell us why you decided to cover your body with Red paint Bucky?” Natasha asked smoothly as she cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

“And why you are naked!” Stark huffed a laugh and he shook his head. The Soldier looked from her to Stark then down at his exposed body before glancing back at Steve.

“It was necessary to remove the articles of clothing so that they would not be irreversibly damaged by the paint.” He explained in a soft monotone voice.

“Right,….. Makes sense to me!” Clint shrugged as he sat up on the counter drinking a beer.

“Okay Bucky,…..what,…… why the red paint?...... and the brown and black?” Steve was working on controlling his breathing and fighting the urge to rush forward to cover his friend up and preserve his dignity. The Soldier looked down at his body then back up.

“You said show how I feel inside,….. what I see……” He took a few steps forward and held up his hands as he looked at them almost dispassionately.

“I see blood,…… on my hands,…… all over my body,…… mine,….. and others,…….. and dirt,…….. suite,……. Ash from fire,……….” He looked up at Steve, his icy blue eyes standing out in sharp contrast to the dark crimson covering his face and hair. “You don’t see it,…….but I feel it,……..always,……..covered in Blood,…… never clean.” His voice trailed off as he stared down at his body, a distant gaze replacing his expression as he lowered his head and sighed.

Steve felt his heart seize in his chest and for the first time since the day they had finally found Bucky so many months before, he felt the urge to sob. He swallowed as he whipped his face and took a deep breath to fight back the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. When he moved his hand from his face he saw Bucky watching him from his lowered head, mouth in a pout and brow crumpled in concern.

“M’sorry Steve,….. My Art is Bad.” The Soldier exhaled closing his eyes as he stepped back and turned away.

“No Bucky,….. No,….wait” Steve could not mask the chocked sound as his voice broke and despite himself a few tears escaped his eyes as he walked toward his friend slowly. He stopped when he stood in front of the distraught Soldier who was standing tense and ridged with his head still lowered, gaze on the floor.

“Bucky,….. Thank you!” Steve spoke softly as he reached one hand out to lift his friends chin, the red paint mostly dry. His tear filled gaze met the Soldiers blue eyes that mirrored his own despair. Steve offered a small smile as he used his other hand to push back the paint covered locks of hair. “Thank you for showing me how you feel….. You did well,…..I am just sad that you don’t feel clean.” Steve explained with a gentle reassurance and Bucky cautiously studied his face. Sam walked toward them and stopped a few feet away.

“What about you Bucky,….. How do you feel covered in blood?” Sam asked with a calm, nonjudgmental tone. The former Asset turned and looked at Sam, a pensive look crossing his features before he answered in his same monotone voice, quiet and unsure.

“Bad,……..” He began slowly, his eyes once more looking to his red hands as his mind tried to find his words. “ Blood,…… comes from pain,…….. Hydra taught order through pain,……..Punishment,…….I was ordered to kill,….. or be punished…….. Steve said killing is wrong,……… But Steve will not punish me……….The blood,…… it never goes away.” Bucky’s body trembled slightly and he let out a shuddered breath before he looked up with a distraught and confused expression, eyes landing on Sam with a pleading look. “I need the blood to go away,………I want to be clean,…….. I need to be punished for killing,………. Punishment is pain,…….. Blood comes from pain………. The blood won’t go away!” The monotone voice broke and the Soldier hung his head as a hopeless whimper escaped his throat and he squeezed his eyes tight, hands gripping the sides of his head.

“Oh Bucky!” Steve’s voice broke as he reached out and pulled his friend into a hug, disregarding the paint that smeared onto his own cloths. Sam sighed and behind him the other Avengers quietly let the heart breaking confession hang heavy in the room. After a moment Natasha walked over toward them and spoke with soft, and deliberate words gaining their attention.

“Punishment is pain and blood,…….. If you want the blood to go away you must not be punished,………you must be cleansed.” She stated and Bucky looked at her with a lost, childlike expression. She reached forward and placed a palm on his painted cheek. “Hydra punished,……. Hydra ordered you to kill and made you bloody,…….. The Avengers help you heal,………. We teach you not to kill,……. We will clean the blood away,…….. Steve will clean the blood away,…… and you will feel good again.” Natasha spoke with a firm, determined voice that left no room for argument. 

The Soldier studied her face and then swallowed and turned toward Steve who still had an arm wrapped around his shoulders, tear glazed eyes over a sad smile.

“You,….. will clean the blood away Steve?......... Make me good again?” Bucky’s voice was a hushed plea, his shoulders still shaking as he desperately searched his friends expression for validation, fearing that his Handler would refuse and turn him away now that he knew the truth, now that he knew about all the blood.

“Yes Buck,…….. I will help you clean all the blood away,……… No more pain, No more punishment, No more killing,…. No more blood!....... You will be clean and good again….. Will you let me help you?” Steve’s voice was strong and reassuring despite the emotion that spilled out as he blinked away tears that trickled down his cheeks. The Soldier let out a choked sigh of relief and pressed his forehead to Steve’s chest as he nodded, body trembling. Steve wrapped both arms around him and shared a heart broken smile and nod toward Natasha and Sam who both nodded back, silent reassurance that Steve could do this.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Steve held his hand under the spray of the three shower heads that were all pointed to the middle of the ridiculously large shower stall that was almost a room in it’s self. The water was warm and the pressure was strong. The Captain let out a small sigh as he swallowed down his hesitation. In the six months Bucky had been back with him he had helped him get clean a few times after violent flash backs and night meres and the day they had first brought him to the tower. During those times Bucky was barley conscious, eyes glazed over and distant, mind lost and unresponsive. Steve hated to admit it to himself but it had made the act of washing his friend easier because he didn’t have to contemplate how Bucky felt about it and weather he would be embarrassed or ashamed.

Steve turned around and faced his best friend, a man he had known his entire life and yet no longer knew, or at least was still learning to understand. The Captain nodded with patent eyes and a warm smile as he held out his hand toward the naked figure who had remained quiet and motionless except for a few tremors, head lowered and blood red skin stiff and dry.

“Are you ready Bucky?....... Are you ready to let me help you get clean,….. to wash away all of the blood, all of the pain and death that Hydra caused?” Steve’s voice was strong and certain, understanding how art was sometimes symbolic and represented more then what was on the surface. At first when he had seen Bucky walk into the common area naked and covered in red paint his initial reaction had been shock and dismay, but when the purpose and significance was revealed he felt completely moved and in awe of the Soldier, just as good art was meant to do. 

Steve offered another nod and smile as Bucky looked up toward him with a solemn frown and eyes filled with pain. The Soldier swallowed and nodded as he stepped forward, still trembling with each movement until he was standing next to Steve, looking in at the water. Steve had removed most of his cloths and was standing in only gym shorts, ready to help his friend wash away the sins of his past and hopefully with it some of the fear, guilt and pain that was always present in his hunted gaze. Steve nodded again and took Bucky’s hand as he stepped forward leading him into the shower unsure what was going to happen but aware that for Bucky, this was not simply washing off some red paint, but a cleansing of mind, body and soul. A baptism to help the tormented Winter Soldier be reborn as a man so that he could truly reclaim his name, so that he could once more become James Buchannan Barnes.

The two Super Soldier’s stood together under the heat of the shower spray as the paint began to run off of Bucky in streams, coloring the tiles with swirls of red as it circled the drain. The Asset was hypnotized by the crimson flood that cascaded down his body, his heart hammering in his chest, breath caught. The sight of the blood red water was overwhelming and intense, bringing an onslaught of raw emotion and with out warning Bucky felt his knees give out as he fell forward with a shattered cry. Steve caught him instantly before he reached the ground and lowered them both to their knees as he held onto the Soldier who released a chocked sob, body shaking. Steve stayed in front of him and held onto both his arms as he rest their foreheads together.

“It’s okay Bucky,….. It’s gonna be okay,…….. let it go,…. Let it all wash away,….. everything they did to you, everything they made you do….. Just let it go Buck,….. I got ya pal,….. I got you.” Steve reassured as the Soldier’s quiet shudders became full body sobs, hunched over on his knees in the shower, tears mixing with the water and paint. There was so much blood, so much red all around him and for a moment his gasping sobs were panicked as he struggled to stay present and focused. Steve knew, he could see the fear and pain shining bright in Bucky’s eyes and he pulled him in even tighter, using his strength to ground the emotionally devastated man.

“So,….so much blood,…….please,…..please help me!” Bucky sobbed as he began frantically wiping at his arms and chest. Steve grabbed his metal wrist in one hand and used the other to grip the back of Bucky’s head.

“It’s okay!....Look at me Bucky,…..I am here,…… I will wash it all away,…. I will make you clean again!” Steve promised as he stroked the side of his friend’s head and then reached out grabbing the wash cloth and soap. Steve wasted no time to create a lather and press the cloth to his friend’s face, offering gentle reassurances as Bucky shut his eyes, whimpering through a closed mouth, water and soap mixing with the red paint to create a pinkish foam. Steve worked with gentle haste and once Bucky’s face was clean, placed his hands on each side of his cheeks, stroking them with his thumbs.

“There you are.” Steve’s voice broke as he tried to smile with a fresh wave of tears running down his own cheeks. The Soldier opened his eyes, trying to suppress his sobs as he blinked away the tears and water with a shudder, blue eyes meeting Steve’s with a slightly crazed fear. “I know that face,…..there’s Bucky,……. No more blood,……..I know you!” Steve’s voice was soft and gentle like his hands as he spoke to his friend. He looked Bucky in his eyes as he once more applied the wash cloth, around his neck and onto the shoulders. Bucky let out another choked cry as he leaned forward and pressed his head to Steve chest as the Captain rubbed the soapy wash cloth in soothing circles on his back.

More paint came off and the more Steve scrubbed the more tension eased from the Soldier until he was completely clean and his body limp and heavy as he released the last of his shuddered sobs. Steve held him cradled in his arms, hunched over as one hand finished running though Bucky’s shampooed and rinsed hair. Steve smiled down at Bucky, not forced or sad, but relived as his friend’s glazed eyes drifted up to his face with tearful exhaustion, breathing heavy but deep and even.

“I am clean now Steve?.......I can be good again…… I can be like I was before?” The Soldier asked with a small quiver in his voice, child like and desperate for reassurance. Steve nodded and pulled him in, once more pressing their foreheads together. 

“You are clean, No more blood,……. You are so good Bucky,…….So Good!” Steve sighed as Bucky nodded and folded into Steve’s embrace, resting his head in the crook of the Captain’s neck. Steve held him protectively and swallowed as he closed his eyes and let the warm water cascade around them, vowing to himself that he would always be there to remind Bucky of who he was and why he deserved to be loved.

 

The End

This is the closest thing I have written to Stucky. I think I am goanna bust out a full on bros in love story eventually. I am a fan of them as a couple but also love the brotherly, friendship dynamic as well and that has been the main focus of my fics. Let me know what ya think and feel free to check out my other one shots and longer epic dramas about Bucky’s recovery.


End file.
